


Battle of Blue and Green

by ColaCat



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mild Sexual Content, very mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 08:41:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7567618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColaCat/pseuds/ColaCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce sees the world in black and white. It only makes sense that his greatest enemy sees the world in bright colors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battle of Blue and Green

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, this is my first time writing on this website and also my first time writing Batjokes. So this should be interesting.. And I don't have a beta or whatever that is called so there may be some issues. Or many issues. I dunno. I tried :D

__

Blue and green clash in the worst of ways in Gotham City. 

Batman's eyes: steel blue, full of anger for the madness that runs in thick waves in his beloved city. You look deep in those mysterious blues and you wonder what this man had to experience to be able to dress in daunting black, rich cape, and constricting cowl. But few could know the answer, for few knew the name behind the mask. Those who did know were either great friend or great foe; sometimes willingly and sometimes not. If you were to see the world through his eyes, you would see a city drenched in Black and White. 

The White was beautiful. A child running alongside his mother begging her for ice-cream; a business man rushing home to be with his loving wife and newborn babe; a couple holding hands and swinging their arms to a rhythm that only they could hear. When Bruce was lucky enough to witness these small acts of kindness and deep love, his heart would yearn for something, but he couldn't figure it out. Maybe he needed a lover. Someone to add a spark, but only a spark. Nothing like the flames he sees in the body of Selina Kyle and the mind of Talia. Just a simple spark that could keep him Content. 

Unfortunately for his sanity and his patience, he saw more Black than he did White. The Black was like tendrils, wrapped around him and the only way to escape is to fight,fight,fight, **FIGHT** until his knuckles bleed and his knees crack. He needed to  **STOP** those who threatened the sanctity of Gotham. Needed to beat the  **H** atred, the  **F** ilth, the  **C** orruption that ran wild through the streets. On a daily basis he saw the Black; dressed like a man ripping a woman's clothes off as she tries to make it home after dark; dressed like a question mark with a cane made of gold; dressed like a mob boss stuffing his wallet full of money while holding a gun pointed at a rival; dressed like a dirty alley with blood pooling, filling the cracks. Three bodies. Two dead and one crying. A child kneeling on milky pearls while staring at the bodies of his now deceased parents. An orphan dressed in black.  

It only makes sense that Batman's greatest villain saw the world in  **BR** ight colors. Reds to signify the blood, the explosions, and the raging chaos. Purple to signify amusement, joy from watching the weak fall. And Green, to signify his  **A** wakening, his **_Beginning_ ** ; the day he met his soulmate. 

His true name was labeled destruction, but the man himself insisted you call him 'The Joker'. A smile so wide you would think his cheeks would tear apart; pale  body, complete with Many scars and a small tattoo of the bat symbol on his right hip. He wore rich purple and atop his head was electric green hair. The purple reminded him of Royalty. If he was going to be the Clown **PR** ince of Crime, he needed to dress for the part. The green was simply a Reminder. 

If you have been face to face with the Prince and survived, then you were witness to the match of madness alive in his eyes. Green like acid (floating, floating, drowning, awakening), it felt as if his gaze could melt your mind. These eyes are sharp and precise. They notice everything and everyone, cataloging faces, names,  **W** eaknesses. This is all accompanied with a mind so fast few can catch up. He was always  _ thinking,planning,thinking,planning,execution _ . Sleep and a full meal were rarely on his mind. Only when his body ached and pained and yawned would he nourish himself, simply out of necessity. Too busy  _ thinking,planning,thinking,planning,execution _ . 

Their beings are so far apart, so stark in contrast, ideologies in opposite worlds; it was inevitable that the two would battle. They would gear up in their best of armour, adorn attitudes made of fire, and march off to fight another fight. The battle typically begins with Joker's call. Explosions in a building, Fire in a church, Murder on the streets; all signals that the Joker was ready. Bruce would glide with wings made of vengeance to their battle ground, and the Joker would be out in the open armed with a gleaming blade. 

The second that The Batman reached the ground, his fists were moving with precision. The battle was a dance of White and Dark, brute force and years of training paired against speed and years spent on the streets of Gotham. The sound of raging fire, bones snapping, and pained moans was their song. A melody that Joker tried to sing to himself in private, but could never truly match.

This dance is short. The Joker is too distracted by the sweet release Bruce's fists bring him to truly fight back. Batman secures Joker tight and leads him to the Car. Batman has learned that he definitely can't trust the Joker, and the Police have a difficult time keeping him caged. So he drives The Joker himself and drops him off in a small cell that reeks of insanity. 

Only two short months pass when another battle arises. They both believe that this will be their usual date: fists and laughter, pain and pleasure. They put on their war paint and descend. The Joker has killed five police officers by the time he has arrived. He has yet to know exactly what the Joker has done. All he knows is the Prince is covered in blood and five bodies are at his feet. Batman appears from the Black and the Joker grins like a junkie would seeing a score. Perhaps that was the perfect description of The Joker's need to see his  _ BatsyBaby _ ; a junkie needing a fix. 

Joker is about to speak, about to welcome his guest onto his grand show. But an armored boot sends him flying farther into the dirty alley. Bruce wants to hear Nothing from this man - no, this  **BEA** st. Joker is trying to sit up after getting the breath knocked out of him and some broken ribs, but Bruce doesn't let him make much progress. Grabs him by the neck, lifts the thin body as if it weighed like a paper doll, and slammed him against the brick wall. 

"Ooooh, so ya want it  **ROUGH** today. I can definitely oblige your Sadism Kink." Fist to the face and a slam against the wall.

"You are Done, Joker. I'm bringing you into Arkham where you will meet Justice." 

Soft Snicker.

" **JUSTICE** . Do ya reaaally believe I'm gonna meet  **JUSTICE** ? Nah, SugarPie. I'll be meeting a cocktail of drugs and some quack therapists that wanna be in my  **HEAD** . You and I both know that there is no  **JUSTICE** . I'll escape and we'll continue this  _ beautiful  _ joke."

Some part of Bruce knows that this is true, but he doesn't accept it. Especially coming out of those painted lips. Anger swarms him and his fist is connecting with a sharp jaw that snaps back with an audible  **CRACK** . Laughter starts streaming out of his colored mouth, starting from a small chuckle to a loud cackle. Hearing that godawful noise pushes Batman out of control. His hand wraps around that milky throat and he tightens his grip. It's amazing how well his fist fits around Joker's throat. Almost as if it always belonged there.

He squeezes and Joker starts to see Black spots. He  **LOVES** it. But before he could slip into sweet emptiness, the grip slackens. It becomes a blur of emotions and motions, and the next moment lips are pressed against lips. Kiss carried by fire, bodies carried by lust and anger. They move together, sometimes in sync and sometimes with no sense at all, but remain contact through it all. They only time they separate is when the Joker is spun and pushed face first into the wall. 

What follows next can be considered as brutal. No preparation, no care,  **NOTHING** but a need to fuck, **FIGHT** ,fuck. Clothes are pushed out of the way and soon they are truly connected. The Joker feels so much pain and god, he  **LOVES** it. Flesh smacking against flesh over and over until they can both feel it coming. A few more thrusts and then  **BAM** ! The act is over and Bruce is no longer inside his enemy and the Joker just feels empty, needing another fix. Before Joker can even turn around and see his  **LOVERLOVERLOVER** , a hand grabs the back of his head and bangs it against the wall. The Dark has finally come to take him.

The Joker wakes up on a cot, in the bowels of Arkham. His mind is foggy due to the concussion and meds, but he knows for absolute Certain that he did NOT dream that meeting of passion. The ache below his waist reminds him that His Bat finally joined his partner in a dance that needed to be done. 

The next time they meet, The Joker expects something. He doesn't know what, but he believes something is going to happen when he sees his Deity. But, to the Joker's INTense anger, the Bat simply brings him down and locks him up for another stay.

Of course The Joker got out and Of course they met, and met, and met again. Sometimes there was only violence, but there were the occasions when Bruce needed to  **GET OUT OF HIS SKIN** and he joins the Joker once again in that dance of sweat and pain and pleasure. 

Bruce is slightly less angry and the Joker is slightly less animalistic. But Bruce feels guilty and dirty and raw everytime it happens and the Joker feels empty and longing and  **EMPTY** . The man with the blue still wishes to find a small spark to be content and Normal. The man with the green wishes to continue their dance forever, until the sky  _ bleeds  _ and the night  _ cries _ . 

Of course only one man will get what he wishes. And that is the man with the Green.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this didn't make any sense. Any comments or reviews are welcome :)


End file.
